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Sneaking behind Vesara toward a line of golden doors with buttons, Tenah marveled at the soaring height of the Embassy. Each level above the lobby had an interior balcony draped in greenery and lit by half-moon sconces.
She made sure not to fall out of Renton’s illusion, keeping close to his side. When her boot squeaked on the polished floor, he glared down at her as if he might swing her up onto his back. His skin had taken on a sickly sheen. She had the urge to touch him but kept her hand planted firmly at her side.
At the first set of gold doors, Vesara pressed the letter A. The doors pulled apart to reveal a metal box. Tenah stepped in last, forced to press her body against Renton’s front. He released a long breath that fanned against her neck as the doors closed.
“I knew you could do it,” Aeyis said.
“What is this box of death, Sut’hik?” Renton demanded in a low voice.
Vesara let out an airy laugh. “Have you never been in a lift before? Goes up and down on cables?”
“Hathrowyn has stairs,” Renton said. “Thousands of them. Keeps us in shape.”
Vesara rolled her eyes. “That’s why the High Court are all such recluses.”
The metal box lurched into motion, and Tenah held back a bubble of laughter as Gireth’s hands smacked against the walls.
“Really? Both of you?” Vesara clapped in excitement. “Oh, I like this game.”
The lift shuddered to a halt. Tenah’s stomach dropped, reality hitting at the gravity of the crimes she’d committed since arriving, now deep in the belly of an assassin organization.
Stale, musty air struck her as the doors opened. It was twinged with a metallic tang that had hot blood thickening in her veins.Screw this chemical reaction to dark magic.
Renton’s fingers brushed against her hip. “Hurry, please.”
She slowly exited the lift, and the sheer size of the archives tripped up her brain’s ability to function. How could such a large structure exist under the city? High ceilings were painted with elaborate murals, much like the ones her father had commissioned in their library. Inspiration much? Hehadworked here in his youth.
Tenah floated down the carpeted stairs into endless rows of bookshelves and desks for studying. Her eyes strained in the darkness, but when she summoned flame, it sputtered out in her palm, leaving her cradling a wisp of disappointing smoke.
The archives do not permit the use of fire magic, Aeyis informed her.
How do we know what to look for?Tenah asked. Her gaze switched between the two dark, towering hallways on either side of the sunken library. Hairs raised along her arms. She tried to rub warmth back into them.
I was hoping it would summon you, Aeyis said.
A menacing growl reverberated through the large, domed room, followed by a commanding “You!”
Tenah startled into the edge of a table. She winced, running a hand over the spot that would surely bruise. When she looked toward the source of the noise, her breath caught.
A cloaked shadow had Vesara pinned against a bookshelf by her throat.
Again, Tenah called for her flames, but they continued their slumber induced by whatever spell had been cast over this place. Renton stretched out an arm to tuck her behind him, half shielding her.
For a moment, no one else moved. No one seemed to know how to navigate the situation. Was this some sort of Embassy guard? Or worse, one of their assassins?
Then Gireth stepped out to play, completely at ease. Pretending to twist a long, invisible mustache, he spoke in a loud, nasally voice. “Aha! My good sir! Finally, the little traitor has been caught. The High Court has been tracking this one for a fortnight.”
The assaulter looked at Gireth with dead eyes the shade of driftwood. Beneath his hood, spikes of dark blue hair jutted out like barbed wire in all directions. “Who are you?”
“Who do you want me to be?” Gireth waggled his brows. “I’m quite good at impressions.”
Eyes narrowing, the assaulter muttered, “The fuck kind of joker are you?”
Gireth showed a crooked grin, his glaive in his hands in a flash. “The murderous kind.”
Before bloodshed ensued, Vesara delivered a swift kick to her assaulter’s groin, freeing herself.
The assaulter dropped to a knee, his features twisted up in pain as he threw back his hood. “I should have known it was you stealing from the archives. Slinking off to the Boglands without so much as a notice. Not two weeks later, stuff starts disappearing from these halls.”
